by Inez Kelley
Vike fought a grin. With those shoes, Rex had better stay away from the livestock sale. But his pretty-boy look was deceiving. He’d spilled more blood than a drunk surgeon with his pugio. The long, sloping Roman dagger sliced like a razor and stabbed like a sword.
“Where’s the Cake?”
“Her name’s Lacy.” Irritation dropped Vike’s voice low. A dozen people, mostly men, mingled around the Car Show, too many ears that could overhear, but it gave him the best vantage point to guard Lacy. Vike leaned on the split rail fencing around the grassy lot designated for the automobiles.
With a flick of his gold lighter, cigarette smoke wafted above Rex’s golden head. The smoke kept people away, a barrier that afforded them a little privacy in the packed car lot. “If you need it, I’ve got a pocket full of shit. One drop in her coffee, instant die latte. She’ll be toast before her ass hits the ground.”
His hand wrapped around Rex’s throat before he thought. “You don’t touch her.”
Rex shoved him. “This Cake’s got your ‘nads in a knot good and tight. You want her alive, fine. But if she’s not stoned, she’ll act like bait and draw them out. That works for me. I could use a good fight. Or a good fuck. Or both.” Rex took a deep drag of the cigarette and dropped his voice. “I hate waiting, it makes my balls itch.”
“You need a nap.”
Rex’s snort forced a tight stream of smoke from his thinned lips. “I need to get laid. It’s been two days.”
Although the Forsaken didn’t have to eat or sleep like normal mortals, they could and most did. It was a comfort thing, things they’d done in their human lives that carried over. They ate, fucked, and slept. Death hadn’t erased those pleasures, but now they were a luxury. Unless you were Rex. He used sex like most people used toilet paper.
Injuries meant a coma-like sleep to heal. It wasn’t unusual for Vike to spend a few hours a week asleep, letting his body repair itself while his mind processed nothing but empty dreamless black. The worse the injury, the longer the sleep required. Inside his hiking boots, Vike’s toes curled. He had spent three weeks in 1962 asleep after he lost a leg in an explosion, courtesy not of a Leech attack, but a misplaced human land mine in Vietnam.
It had taken two Forsaken to hold him down while Nomad cauterized the stump. Three weeks later, he woke up good as new. Vike flexed his left foot. Had the injury been any worse, he’d have needed Sela. His gut spasmed at that thought. She could make all their injuries disappear, but man, it hurt like a motherfucker when she did. He’d rather sleep for a few weeks than go through that hell.
A sexually predatory verve straightened Rex’s spine and he flipped the cigarette to the ground. “This inbreeding party just got a lot more interesting. Sweet set of tits approaching.”
Vike glanced over his shoulder then slapped his hand against Rex’s stomach. “She doesn’t like Italian sausage, got it?”
“What, you think she’d prefer Yule log?”
Vike turned, putting his body between Rex’s leering eyes and Lacy. Faded jeans hugged the curve of her thighs just right and her blue hoodie had a bright yellow WVU emblazoned across her…yeah, sweet set of tits. She gripped his hips, went to her tiptoes and pressed a light kiss to his mouth.
“Nice,” snickered Rex. “Way to have your Cake and eat it, too.”
Something stiffened the hard muscles under Lacy’s hands. Erik gritted his teeth and shifted her to his side, keeping his arm along her shoulders. “Lacy, this is my buddy, Rex.”
A twitch played along Rex’s mouth. Ignoring Erik’s glower, he took her hand, gave a slight bow and dropped a kiss to her knuckles. A warm breath feathered across her hand as he spoke in a beautifully lyrical language.
“Keep dreaming, Roman. And get your mouth off my girl.”
Rex shrugged. “Can’t blame me for trying. Nice to meet you, Lacy.”
“Hi. Do you work at the security firm, too?”
“Yeah.” A smile flashed, shark-like and cold. Lacy fought a shiver. The coffee brown sweater lent his gold hair a warmth that echoed the sun, but his shoulders were too tight, too rigid to be the playboy he looked like. The relaxed pose was just that, a pose. His head barely turned but she would bet her last penny that behind those dark lenses his eyes were scrutinizing everyone and everything.
Something fluid washed over him as he focused over her shoulder. “Now that’s an ass I could take a bite out of.”
Lacy looked then burst out laughing. The brunette across the fairground wore a rhinestone tiara, a satin sash and jeans that had to have been painted on. She kept glancing at Rex and licking her candy-apple red lips.
“You probably could. She’s been known to go bobbing for a few things in her life.”
“She’s royalty. My kind of lady.” Rex started her way.
“You’re supposed to stick with me.” A dark warning hid under Erik’s words. “We’re guarding Lacy, remember?”
Tossing back his head, Rex laughed. “You’re a big boy and since you won’t share, I’m going pussy hunting. Don’t worry, one itch and I’m there.”
Two minutes later, Lacy shook her head as the Apple Harvest Queen slid her arm into Rex’s and headed toward the as-yet-not-opened craft tent. “Is he always like this?”
“Yeah, he is.” Erik shrugged. “Let’s take a walk.”
They toured the flea market aisles, the baked good sales, the emergency vehicles line-up, but mostly they talked. For Lacy, the festival was boring. She could predict the line-up down to the last paper napkin.
Her eyes drifted to the hulking Victorian mansion that served as a foster home. It stuck out in the mountains, too proper for the rugged landscape. But the Matthias Brewbaker line had donated the land and the home to the local orphanage long before Lacy was alive. The last remaining bit of elegance of a once grand family now housed children with no families. After their mother had died, she and Annie shared room 201 in the dormitory until Lacy turned eighteen. That place had never been home. It was more of a refuge, a pit stop as she inched toward legal adulthood. Her childhood had died along with her mother.
A sigh sagged her shoulders. She knew the ins and outs of every corner of this place. But this was Erik’s first time and she enjoyed spending time with him, even if it did mean playing tour guide. Her spine straightened. The air seemed crisper and the sun brighter just because he held her hand.
At a splintering picnic table, they split a funnel cake, feeding each other bites and licking off powdered sugar. He started with licking the white sprinkles from her fingertips, then leaned close and removed every crystal from her lips. There was something illicit in sitting with him, in a crowd of people, kissing like teenagers. The playfully sexual interlude did more for her spirits than any drug in the world.
“Stop.” Erik pulled back and sucked in a huge lungful of air. “I can’t think when you kiss me like that.”
Lacy laughed. “You were kissing me back.”
“Yeah, but I’m a guy. I think with my dick.” He took a fast gulp of his lemonade. “Talk about something else so my hard-on goes down.”
She couldn’t stop her eyes from dropping to his lap. The denim was stretched tight across his groin and his zipper strained. Pure feminine power filled her.
“Lacy, it’s never going to get soft if you keep looking at it.”
Grinning, she shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I am,” he muttered. His attention swept the fairgrounds like a soldier searching for the enemy. A few coworkers and friends stopped by, supposedly to check on her, but most were ogling Erik. He nodded politely, but kept his greetings cool, making it obvious he wanted Lacy to himself. Normally that possessive caveman shit would have irritated her, but since she didn’t want to share him either, she let it slide.
“Seems like you know everybody,” he said.
“Probably do. It’s a small town.”
“You said you lived there?” He pointed toward the Victorian.
“Yeah, from fifteen
until eighteen. I moved to Virginia for a few months but came back.”
“Why Virginia?”
The grin slid from her face. She watched a toddler with his nose buried in a dripping red Sno-cone. “My fiancé was stationed there. Chris was in the Navy.”
Beside her, Erik stiffened. “You like sailors?”
She turned her head at the odd tone in his voice. Every soldier she’d ever met carried a vibe, a warrior mentality. Erik had that in spades. Why hadn’t she seen that before? “Were you Navy?”
“Something like that, I guess. Not in this country.” He shook his cup and watched the ice rattle, avoiding her eyes. “Why didn’t you marry him?”
“He got deployed overseas and wanted me to come with him.” The funnel cake was cold. She picked at it, pulling tiny pieces off and laying them to the side of the paper plate. “I couldn’t leave Annie alone, you know? She was still a kid.”
“You couldn’t take her with you?”
His stare tripped over her skin like water over stones. All her secrets, her dreams, her fantasies hovered, just waiting for her to pluck them and share them with him. But it was too soon to expose that much of her heart.
“No. The state wouldn’t award me custody of her since I was only eighteen.”
When Chris got his orders, reality had crashed down. She’d had to choose between her sister and her man, a man who had no choice but to leave the country. If she married, it could’ve been years before Lacy saw her sister again. She couldn’t do it. Even though Chris had cried, sworn she was killing him and was breaking his heart into a million pieces, Lacy simply couldn’t be that far from Annie. Their parents were gone. They only had each other left.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Not anymore.” Erik crunched ice, his jaw cracking it loud. “But I was married once.”
“What happened?”
“She was a witch.” His forced grin took the sting out of his words.
Lacy rolled her eyes. “All men say that about their ex-wives.”
“Yeah, but I mean it.”
His laugh sparked hers and everything smoothed back into place. The sun was warm, soothing her aches like a heating pad. Firm, strong fingers kneaded into her shoulders, massaging even more stiffness away. Suddenly they bit into her skin.
She turned to study him over her shoulder. Erik’s face hardened. His chin rose in slow degrees and his gaze went stony. Harsh lines appeared beside his mouth. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“We need to get out of here.”
“What’s wrong?”
His eyes scoured the crowd. Lacy looked out, wondering what he could be searching for. Across the fair ground, Rex bolted from the craft tent, his sweater inside out, his face the same alert scowl. His eyes locked on them and he ran, dodging children and vaulting over the roped off walkway. Sweat dampening his temples, he skidded to a stop. “Tingle-linga-ling.”
“I know,” Erik growled, rolling his shoulders.
Rex blinked and Lacy realized he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. His eyes were a dark gray-blue and furious as they swept from her chin to her hairline. The rich color didn’t match the brittle politeness on his face. “You’re looking kind of sick. Maybe you should take off. You wouldn’t want to pass out.”
Lacy glared but bit her tongue. Gee, thanks for pointing out I look like roadkill. I didn’t say anything about your zipper being at half-mast.
“She looks fine.” Erik’s snarl sent shivers along her skin, but Rex didn’t flinch. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to the stand. Rex is going to go check on things.”
“Right, be back.”
Lacy frowned as Rex melted into the crowd. The sun was high and she squinted. She could have sworn he had a knife of some kind in his hand as he rounded the Children’s Home.
“The bad guys are here, aren’t they?”
“Yeah.” Erik’s fingers dug a little too hard into her elbow as he escorted her back to the concessions booth. “Stay in here.”
“Erik.” Fear pressed the sides of her throat together. “Where are they?”
Her skin crawled. Someone was watching her. She scanned the crowds, trying to find anyone who looked out of place. She focused on a slight woman wearing a peasant blouse and flowing skirt. The sensual, feminine beauty faced her and waved, not a friendly hey-glad-to-see-you wave, but a secretive I-know-you-like-no-one-else wave. Something about her eyes made Lacy shiver.
“Who’s that?”
“Get in the booth, Lace.” Ice could have formed on Erik’s words. “Do not come out for anything, you understand?”
“Is she with them?” He tried to shove her inside but she caught the door. “They wouldn’t do anything with all these people around, would they?”
Erik didn’t answer and her stomach shuddered. Anxiously she looked over the fairgrounds, seeing children and families, elderly vendors and sightseers. Innocent people. There were hundreds of people here. Surely to God they wouldn’t hurt anyone else, would they?
Vike stood guard outside the closed door, glaring at Galina. He’d had run-ins with the female Minion for close to six-hundred-years and never managed to slip her some steel. Her malevolent gaze darted from him to Lacy with obvious glee. As long as Lacy stayed inside the man-made structure, with him at the door, Galina couldn’t reach her.
“Galina. I wondered who it was.” Rex asked sidling up beside him. “When’d she show up?”
“Twenty minutes, give or take. I thought you cut her back in the thirties?”
“She’s like herpes. Soon as you think she’s gone for good, she pops back to make your balls itch.”
“Why aren’t you scouting?”
“Did it. She’s the only Leech here but that doesn’t mean shit since we’re outside and they can Leap in anywhere. We need to get Lacy out of here now.”
“She won’t leave.”
“Make her.” Rex’s low tone carried a command.
“I need a diversion.”
A grim lift to Rex’s lip resembled a sneer. “Wait for it.”
Vike stiffened. “What’d you do?”
A clanging bell exploded in the crowd, followed by screams and fire alarms. A shockwave of panic spread, rushing over the crowd like an ocean tide. The acrid scent of burning wood and blistering paint filled the dark smoke funneling into the bright blue sky.
The three-story Victorian housing the dormitory was capped with bright orange flames. Teens barreled from the doors carrying younger children, bedding and prized possessions. Tears and soot streaked their faces. A thick ring of people formed away from the blaze, watching as the horror unfolded. They hampered the emergency equipment getting closer. Vike shook his head. The masses always stood in the way, morbid vulture-like curiosity slowing the help needed.
“You set the Children’s Home on fire,” he breathed. “Sweet.”
The horror of burning such a precious place bounced off Vike. He’d burnt his share of territory when it suited him and this fire suited him just fine. It drew attention away from the fairgrounds. Taking advantage of the throng of people shifting toward the growing blaze, Galina stepped from the crowd.
“Rex, stay with Lacy.”
He matched his moves to Galina’s, shadowing her every move. The concession stand was backed up against a walnut tree. Rex’s fire sucked the crowd away, leaving them in almost privacy once she rounded the tall tree. Vike’s fingers twitched, wanting to feel the grip of his bone-handled dagger. He weighed his chances of popping Galina without drawing attention.
The fabric of her skirt melted along her body as she glided with a sensual grace. With blacker than sin hair playing against her snowy skin, and her Russian bone structure arching her cheeks with brows high, she was lust personified. But she left him cold.
A forked tongue flicked out and destroyed the classic beauty of her features. Teeth gritted, Vike narrowed the gap between them, forcing Galina back against the tree. Anyone looking would think he was about t
o kiss her, but the only kiss he wanted to give her was of cold steel in her black heart.
“Damn, you get sexier every decade, Viking. Ditch the bitch and come play with me.”
“Fuck off, Galina. You can’t have her.”
“My Master craves her and I crave you.” Her fingers walked up his chest. “Work with me, Viking. Give me the Scion and I’ll suck your brains out.”
“I’d rather cut my own dick off.”
“Kinky bastard.” She laughed, a sharp malicious sound. “Fine, play with the Scion while you can. I can wait.”
The bitch’s tongue darted out and licked over his cheek. He lunged, but she dematerialized.
“Should’ve just stabbed her.”
Vike closed his eyes. “You’re supposed to be with Lacy.”
“Lacy is feeling no pain, trust me.” Rex held an empty syringe in his hand. “I knocked her do-gooder ass out. Dray called. Shit’s piling up. Leeches just set fire to Lacy’s house and the diner.”
Vike let loose a stream of curse words that would have shocked anyone had they understood tenth century Norwegian, which he highly doubted. Rex however caught it all and nodded in approval. “That sounds painful.”
“We have to hide her.”
Rex tongued his lip in thought. “Take her to your boat.”
“And if the Third finds us, how do we explain me Leaping her ass out of there? Pretend I’m Superman? Prince fucking Charming can’t fly.”
Irritation curled Rex’s lip. “Point taken. But you better figure something out. Samael’s Leeches are knocking out her safe places and narrowing in on her.” The Roman leveled a measuring stare at him. “You could always just dust her.”
“I’m not taking advice from a man who made his fucking horse a senator.”
